A Detour in Awakening God
by Fehize
Summary: Maverick. A title that meant against Humanity. Sage Harpuia. A fallen Guardian. Labeled as a Resistance Supporter, the Sage Ex-Commander must forge new paths. Awaken old legends. Create ones. Even if that means going against his nation.  AU MMZverse
1. Chapter 1

_A Detour in Awakening God  
By : Fehize_

[x]_  
_

He was not originally built for fighting, but rather, to maintain systematic overture of weather patterns throughout the entire world. It was quite odd, really, to see him now. A green blur; the wind rushing; the faint sounds of something not quite normal. All of these things were attributed to him, and it was something short of a miracle that allowed him to be such a proficient man in disposing others. Disposing, of course, being the gentle word for what he was really doing.

His green eyes to move to the bottom left hand corner, signifying that he was lying, even though he was the only one who was there to pay attention. "Humph," he added while shifting from one cloud to another, "_disposing_. What a lie." He was here for duty, job, and sacrifice. He was not here to allow his personal ideas impede on the human public. Sage Harpuia, they liked to call him, as if he was some sort of wise, all knowing creature. The truth was he was not, nor did he claim to. But the people do not like to listen, for they claim that he was being very humble.

The cries of one more fallen Maverick, for that is what you call them nowadays, filled the air, sending a chilling message to all those who were still alive to listen. Naturally, he was allowing his minions to take care of the business, as well as the un-AI'd robotic machines. To allow himself to physically remove the spark of life from another fellow Reploid was almost blasphemous. Yet, every single one of them were still the enemy. The enemy of the state, the enemy of the nation; the enemy of Neo Arcadia. His world, _this_ world, was not a place for those who could not keep up with a modern way of thinking. Nor, was it a place for those with outdated internal works.

He himself, the wise Sage, was not exactly modernly built. Yet, he had the people rallied behind him, all because he was the master over the weather. The weather was not everything, though, and that could be seen by his fellow Guardians. All of them were originally just for maintaining a manageable living space. The four of them were now at the forefront in a war that Master X was beginning to claim would be easy. The green and white colored man, though, had internal feeling that it was not going to be very simple - that it was going to be painful and almost never ending. As the cries of yet another person filled the darkening sky, he cringed. There is no honor in exterminating Reploids that technically do no harm to the society.

Upon the emergence of the Resistance, he had been fitted with some new equipment that could allow him to be utilized for more warlike disposition. He gently took a quick glance at his own hands, then down to the two twin swords that lied in each of his fists. Unlike the rest of his uniform, these objects were a bright fuchsia color. Almost, if he allowed himself to think in such a way, pink. Despite their almost girly composition, the motive behind them could be no other thing than bringing the most amount of damage in the least amount of movement.

Energy swords.

All behind him was nothing but the fields of death. This is normally a job for Phantom, for this technically fell under the jurisdiction, but today - no, this week - was one of the busiest. People were saying it was the epitome of Maverick Removal, but in secret, there were many whispers going around that this was nothing but the beginning.

For many hours he had to go through this, and only now was he able to take a break from all this pointless death. He floated higher, to the point that he could no longer see the tainted land below him, and closed his eyes, trying to shake the images away from him. He could see the hands of those who were about to die, reaching out for him underneath the compressor, trying to obtain, even if just for a moment, the ability of flying. He could hear the sounds of the dying, as well as those condemning him for placing their bodies in a torture he had not seen since the Great Wars. War was Hell, using the Human saying. And it was. It played mind games on both sides, and left a nightmare in the ruined lives of survivors.

All of this because of the severe crisis. THE Crisis. THE energy shortage.

The sharp buzzing noise of his communicator picking up a frequency brought his attention away from his thoughts. "Harpuia!" came the feminine cry of his fellow Guardian, Leviathan. Unlike him, which was stern and composed, she was almost reckless. The blue armored woman relished in this upcoming war, lived in the moment, and seemed to take no ill from the errs of the world. To live was to fight, which was odd, considering, before they were all upgraded to fighting, she was the 'calm, gentle, protector of the oceans'. Fairy-like, even. It was just another small emphasis that everything had changed. Neo Arcadia, itself, as well.

H is for Honor. He was no longer as content, nor as happy, as he once was. Every time he picked up a mission log to spy on the people of Neo Arcadia, he felt _dirty_. This was no good versus bad, but rather, two different ideas that were opposing one another. There were laws, though, and even though he knew that the majority of people would not join the Resistance, the smallest words saying otherwise would be self damnation.

No honor at all for being a Neo Arcadian Guardian, retrofitted for a war against its own people, as well as the legitimate threat.

However, it was better to be a dirty, mindless, extermination machine than work for the soulless beings of the Resistance. Propaganda was beginning to show around, portraying them as anti-human activists who would be willing to kill them all. Being who he was, the Scout, he knew what reality was. The truth. They were considered Mavericks, yes, but they were fighting for something akinned to equal rights. To make themselves on being the same level as Humanity, despite being nothing but tools, in the end, for the _homo sapian _purpose. Yet, in their attempt to show these rights, they were willing to fight the very government that was protecting Humanity, and all in the middle of an energy crisis that seems to have no end in sight.

That is what made them soulless.

He placed his hand by his head, accepting the comment, and readied to talk back. There was no need to physically move his hand to portray such words over the communicator, but it felt... natural. It was as if he tried to maintain some sort of semblance with the Human population, who could not converse via electronics INSIDE their bodies. "Yes, Leviathan?" he began silently, still aware that he was high amongst the clouds, trying to fight off for the last few seconds the reality of the world.

"The Resistance has been moving from one place to another, trying to find a permanent base, we are assuming, from the spy satellites in orbit. But, since you know that, being hooked up to them 'n all, Master X wants you to find their fixed base. Not only that, but see all the weak points. Not intended to be done in such a short time, but-"

The woman continued, giving a rough overview of the parameters of the mission he was about to undertake. During that moment, he glided down from the heavens and landed with grace upon the ground, staying a few miles away from one of the numerous factories the city had. Dust swirled around his foot as he gave a slight frown, calling forwards for his ride, Aztec Falcon.

With a subtle cry, the machine beast accelerated into the sky, and then headed towards the rendezvous point.

[x]

"-is bad. They are getting far more organized with each passing day," Harpuia softly commented, afraid to make too much noise.

The scene in front of him was not a good time for a man's cover to be blown. _**Hundreds**_ of uniformed and non-uniformed men and women Mavericks were in the underground, all working towards removing all they could from the vicinity. Boxes upon boxes of the rare, and much sought after, E-Crystals were being guarded with enough people to pose a threat on even protected buildings of Neo Arcadia. _The Resistance_, he thought with an internal hiss. They had broke into this energy refinery to steal all they could only half an hour ago at most. He had received the call of 'suspicious activity' when he was scouting the area only moments ago.

But thirty minutes before any call of warning?

After taking a quick look, it ended up he was LUCKY to have heard anything over the airwaves at all. The factory workers had all been killed by the intruders, and it was only through the slow processing speed of the security cameras - as well as a foolish intruder - that the alarm had been tripped to begin with.

Still, what good it did. To rush in with hundreds of Mavericks was suicide. Master X would have issues alone as well, he thought, before listening to the response that the other three Guardians gave to him. It was a garble of words, all mixed with one another, arguing over how terrible it was that those THINGS were stealing from the great Neo Arcadia! From Humans! From THEM! Yet, all of them cursed. Though the Resistance, in general, was a rag-tag group, they were smart enough to turn off/destroy the Transporters within the vicinity. An evil plan, they did, but well thought out.

Too thought out.

He could not allow the weather satellites make a disturbance that would send down lightning due to the sensitivity of the refinery. Even the Resistance were not messing with them, instead, taking only the final products. It would be too costly to build a new one, not to mention the time, as well as the FUTURE strain it would give to the Neo Arcadians if this building was destroyed or damaged in any way...

His eyes widened in horror as he saw some of those Mavericks slap on high energy bombs on everything they could while pushing the last of the crates of their precious cargo onto large vehicle. _They can't... be doing this!_ Yes, both groups had fought each other before, but this was the first time the Mavericks were going to do harm outside of those warring with one another.

They were going to destroy the entire factory.

An act of war to the fullest extent. A message. A saying. They were out to win, and will not stop and debate if something was unhonorable or not.

Nothing, he recalled, was more dangerous than the mindset of winning and damning the consequences. Just take a look at the world now, to illustrate this point.

Cursing, he pulled out his weapons, and then, as unstoppable as time itself, raced forwards and killed the first Maverick in front of him. Time was still, for just that first kill - as still as it could be for beings that were made out of electronics and could process and analyze all that was going on before a normal Human could blink. And, just like that, the shooting began.

It was a dance; the slicing and clanging of his swords against the thuds of splatting plasma. Nay, something worse than that. Dances were painful only if you outdid yourself. This was a blatant dodging of the rays of oncoming energy projectiles. His 'brain', his CPU, was nearly pushing the brink of its capabilities by estimating the timely arrival of the next volley of attacks as well as send off his own. All in an attempt to get his body in just the right position, in JUST the right place as to not get killed.

Yet, there were too many for that. Yes, they were fleeing - for the factory was primed and counting down - but the amount of bullets often led to times where he had to make a decision: get killed, or move his body to allow damage in places where it would make him less useful, but still alive.

The lone man, fighting against the hoard, with a timer.

He had to protect the factory. But was it worth his life? Yes, yes it was. For every E-Crystal that gets pumped out, more Humans get to live longer. More Reploids get to avoid the false label of 'Maverick'. Less real Mavericks that will appear.

Sadly, it made no difference in the end. Finish off the forty-seven Resistance that remained, he did.

Disarm the fuse, he did not.

Thus, the world rocked with the fires of rebellion.

[x]

Colbar was silent for a few moments, unsure of what exactly to do.

The dust was beginning to settle around his body, as well as the remains of his small cache of books detailing the many quirks of life before the long-gone battles. The majority of his shelves were destroyed, there was a gaping hole on his roof, but at least there were no flickers of fire. Books were a precious item, and so few of them had survived the Maverick Wars of long ago.

However, not even the notion of his items being possible damage could hold his attention for too long. Everyone in the vicinity had heard the explosion that had happened yesterday, and clean-up was going to begin, rather soon. More than one place had structural damage from the so-called refinery accident, and he was the lucky one. For being this close and not having anything other than a hole and shattered windows, he was lucky. Lucky, he thought gloomily as his eyes processed what was ahead of him, but not lucky enough.

The Sage Harpuia was lying, backside, on a pile of books. Dust, still coming down despite the length of time, was fluttering all over him. His head was propagated amongst some larger pile, almost making it seem like he was taking a nap from too much reading.

Only the injuries that was evident told a different story all together.

Cautiously, he edged closer. Colbar was not one to be unwise, and stealth books always said to 'be aware', but... but THIS? He knew he had been harboring dangerous ideas in his head - the rumors that older Reploids were the first to be called extremists had circulated this area of Neo Arcadia refused to die - but no where near enough to warrant such a visit.

_Frankly_, a part of his brain chastised, _this is NOT what one would call a visit_.

What to do? He had been debating, for some time, that on some levels, the Resistance was making sense. That these 'Guardians' were not doing their jobs. So, turning him into the government, when the fables of the mass genocide ran by the Four Guardians against Reploids running rampant, was out of the question. On the other hand, so was turning in a Guardian towards the local Resistance supporters. To say the least, he was currently neutral on this decision: sick enough of Neo Arcadia, but knowing that the Mavericks went overboard.

It did not help that the only official words of the enemy were regulated.

So, Colbar added a defeated sigh. He had eventually come down with a decision, and while it favored neither party, it was the only rational thing to do. The window to turn this man into the authorities was getting shorter if he HAD wanted too, at least, if he wanted to get away with nothing more than a stern remark.

"If you were-" he began, grunting as he began to move the green-armored Reploid towards another room, "-anyone else, this would have been different." After hauling the Sage, he groaned a bit, realizing that he was going to have to invite a nurse or doctor to check this man out. Since this area of Neo Arcadia was not known for the regular supplies [though most certainly not the place worst off], doctors were in high demand and short supply. More so since that explosion.

"Discreetly, too," moaned Colbar. Quickly, trying not to think too much about what he was about to do, he changed the green armor into the staple blue outfit he had around his small household. Tossing off the helmet, for it was in such a shape that he doubted anyone short of an engineer could fix it, he hid everything green in his closet, and threw blankets on it. What he was doing was beyond the borderline of Maverick to the government...

Pulling out his small communication device, Colbar frowned as he began scrolling through the list of contacts. The only nurse he knew that would keep her mouth shut about this was the plump Reploid, and secretly active Resistance supporter, Rocinolle. Pushing his short, black hair outta his eyes, he waited as the woman took her time to answer.

"Hello?"

"Rocinolle," he began, "I need you to patch someone up over here asap. It will be best if you come quickly."

He could hear her wariness, especially since he was sure that she was busy with other Reploid and Human patients. "It'll have to wait."

"It'll be worth your while."

Cryptic. How typical.

[x]

Rocinolle was not like most Reploids. She preferred to have the slight weighted appearance, due to wanting to look closer to her human counterparts to instill safety for young children patients. She also preferred the colors of brown and light cocoa instead of the blue fad that many Neo Arcadians expressed. Her hair was always tied into a bun, with some of her hair in slight disarray due to the work load she had.

Her shocked face was the best of all.

"This poor man nearly got EXPIRED!" she had cried out upon seeing Harpuia's injuries. She, of course, didn't know it was him - being a secret supporter for the now-called Mavericks meant she despised the Guardians, Colbar left that part out - but was worried all the same. "I am surprised that he lived for so long since the explosion. Sad thing, he must have been stuck in the buildings nearby.

"We should report-"

"We will not," Colbar added curtly.

The nurse gave him an off look, frowning and pursing her lips. "Why...?" she added, suspicious.

"He's someone I'd rather Neo Arcadia leave alone." No more, no less. "And I know that you love secrets."

She was not satisfied, but made due, doing her best to patch up the man with the limited supplies she had available. But, it was enough. Maybe because the Guardians were built better than the average Reploid they recovered quicker? He stabbed the feeling of jealously - why is it that the elite get better off than the average in everything? - and thanked the woman.

"I will stay around until he awakens," she began. "I am intrigued with your mystery man," she added with a tilt of her head. "Besides," she said with a snide smirk, "if you do not wish to report this to Neo Arcadia... it intrigues me."

Now, perhaps some history? Colbar knew Rocinolle for many years, and they were not afraid to let the tongues let loose for a while, knowing that the world around them was eager to listen and dispose. Yet, she never said, fully, that she was a Resistance Activist. He pleased himself on being a sneaky scout man. When he was young, he had dreamed of being a flying spy for the glories of Humankind, or a solider in the next Great War, winning against all odds against his evil, robotic counterparts...

How he had changed.

[x]

It took weeks for the Sage to recover. Every day, though, Rocinolle was more than happy to stay over, gossiping over the latest tidbits. She tried to inject happier news, but as the time flew by, the whispers were getting darker. More and more Reploids were being called Mavericks, and were being killed. The government was in slight-major chaos as one of the Guardians had gone missing. There were more energy shortages, thanks to the destruction of the nearby refinery, and the cruel statistic was in, too:

that Reploids were being called Mavericks to not promote peace, but, rather, to get rid of machines that eat E-Crystals.

Less than Human, they must be then, Colbar thought angrily. Keeping Harpuia - hostage? No, but not free, either - was turning out to be a better idea than he thought the more time passed. Of course, that went in correlation with his growing 'Maverick' ideas: that Reploids did not DESERVE to be offed just because they were there! All in the name of Humanity! Like, as if, as if they were better! Did they not invent the wars to begin with?

Equality. Freedom. Justice.

Those thoughts rang in his head like a well chimed bell of lore, even as he housed what was beginning to look like an enemy. Yet, he could not bring himself to hurt another of his own kind, even if this man will wake up to two unknowns, reported as MIA. However, he allowed the secret of this man's identity to spread to only one more person. Rocinolle did not take it well, at first, but Colbar gently reminded her that Harpuia was going to owe them one - a 'honorable' deed they had done that the Guardian will not overlook and push away due to his personality.

When the Sage woke up, however, it was as if some divine figure heard Colbar's and Rocinolle's worried calls.

The green eyes looked around the room, obviously confused over where he was. He propped himself up gracefully, at least, before giving them a hard, yet unknowing, look. "Where am I?" Harpuia began. At first, that seemed normal, and thus, received the default, 'inside Neo Arcadia' answer. "I know that, but who are you?" That received the comments of a nurse and a common man.

But it was Rocinolle who snickered slightly; a sinister glint her eyes of victory, after the response. "If we were good citizens of Neo Arcadia, which we are not," she began in a sing-song voice, aware that the disguised man was tensing up, "we should send you in, Ma-ver-ick."

Colbar spat out, and jumped up at the same time Harpuia did. "WHATT!" they both yelled out, enraged.

The choco-nurse continued to smile, happy, even. "Yes, O GREAT Sage _Ex_-Commander Harpuia. Since Neo Arcadia was unwilling to say that the Resistance had enough strength and tact to infiltrate so deep inside this city and destroy the refinery _**alone**_, and with you reported in the area when they were attacking, and never returning, I am afraid they labeled you as a scapegoat."

Her eyes glinted. "Neo Arcadia has branded you as an traitor. A Resistance supporter. Marked for Retirement with no trial like the rest of us. It was either that, or admit that the Resistance has gotten much stronger and organized. An actual Resistance BASE, led by the so-called maniacal, genius, and young psychopath Dr. Ciel. Yes, the government would rather send you off than terrify the Human population with an even harsher truth..."

"How dare you say such things!"

"How do you KNOW this!"

"You-You-!"

"_I_ haven't heard this, and I am your FRIEND!"

"From Dr. Ciel herself, of course," she added, shutting them both up in the middle of their stupor. "Colbar - a knack for leading men - and Harpuia - a fallen Guardian... two very smart Reploids would be... pleasant to work with."

Conspiracy was a word he usually associated with the Neo Arcadians, but he felt the rug pull underneath him upon those words.

"Are you..." Colbar tried to begin before being cut out by the Sage.

Snarling, even, the expert of the skies cried out, "You are a Resistance Maverick YOURSELF!"

Her laughter literally came out at the best moment. "Why, of course! Normally, I play the low-life, slight enthusiast for recruiting, but... with this opportunity, how can I say NO? Besides," she had the audacity to add, "the only way you can live now is via us. We had no say in how the government was going to use you, but to think to label you as such..." Her expression quickly changed, showing seriousness. "BUT! But... but we are NOT real, true Mavericks, and I have a feeling you know that, Sage."

Harpuia launched forewords at that moment, almost tackling Rocinolle through the wall. The hatred was burning in his eyes, but the nurse was too full on her own high that she refused to back down. "I saved... your life!" she gasped out. His gloved hand remained there, but quickly let go in disgust.

"Soulless indeed," he added, lacing each word with loath.

With that, he turned and opened the door, leaving the shivering Colbar alone, muttering softly, "If I see you two again, I will remove you myself, Mavericks." Sure, the black haired man found out that the Sage WAS honorable...

But also scary as-

"You'll be back," the nurse began. "You will see what it means to be called a Maverick. A scapegoat. Useless for Humanity now, with **that** hovering over your head!" she cried out at the end as Harpuia flew away.

She arched her head towards Colbar, still smiling. "He has to be back. He'll die without us."

Colbar just shook his head. How did things go so far out of hand? On the plus side, at least he now had a concrete and valid reason for joining the Resistance himself...

[x]

_Beginning just set a few years before Megaman Zero I, this story is OBVIOUSLY AU. Since I didn't want to go with LAWL MEMORY LOSS, 'cause ZERO has that, I had to be a bit more mean to the humanity and more cunning for the Resistance Base people. But, considering Neige n Co.'s attitude towards Reploids, it's actually not that far of a imaginative stretch that humanity plus the government will slap all of the political downwind on a MIA Guardian._

_Anyways, thus, the story of a Resistance Base with 5oo percent more Harpuia BEGINS!_

_Comments loved. Of course! -winks-_

_P.S. Colbar and Rocinolle are actual Resistance Base members, with their actual names. No OCs here. ;3 Zero will show up, eventuallllly. Which is why I had debated on who to name as main characters: Harpuia n Ciel? Harpuia n Zero? In the end, I had chosen Zero n Harpuia, but Ciel will be noted often, as is the other members. As to why I wanted to write this? I need to pick up my love for writing again, and this is a good way to do so, ne? That, and Harpuia being a RB member has been playing in my brain for a LONG time.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_A Detour in Awakening God  
By : Fehize_

[x]

In all honesty, the sky was quite opposite of his current mood.

Most tales, stories, or whispered rumblings near a fire begin a tale of a hero, dashing away from evils, vowing to return one fated day to vanquish his enemies; the hero's footsteps crunching the ground below him in either falling rain or howling blizzards. Hardly do they start with an infuriated man walking through the darkening streets of a grandiose city, with the sun setting rather lovingly on the horizon. Despite the fact that the weather had not been regulated for many weeks, the Earth had a nasty habit of picking up the slackened pace. Or at least, long enough for this person to see it. The brightest of stars could be made out, faintly against the light pollution of the human utopia, in the opposite end of the sky, showing that, at least for now, the world was at peace.

A false peace.

Deep in the road network of this city, people were moving, talking in hushed tones. Banners were being placed down from various places, and even the color green was beginning to be near taboo. Only the most radical would attempt to try such a color on now, especially since...

Well, everyone knew, it seemed. Even Sage Harpuia himself; the fury of a talk he had had earlier with that brown Nurse-like Reploid was enough to send a hint. Hints he obviously did not want to be TRUE. Years of building a platform of trust between himself, Reploids, and Humanity was broken, in an instant... supposedly. He shook his head, the brown hair locks moving friskily, as his green eyes stared ahead. In hindsight, perhaps it would have better to storm out of that _dirty_ place with his equipment. Unfortunately, he had a feeling it was already long since moved. Possibly, even, in the hands of the Resistance themselves.

To think, two of the Ten Shining Weapons - each originally made for the fight against Mavericks in the Wars of seemingly long ago - were now in the hands of those who would gladly desecrate them. Prostate themselves against them for knowledge on how to kill. His white gloved hands mentally reached the spots where his swords should have been, but only reacted towards ghostly, mental images.

Still, this was not the worst of his problems. Yes, it ranked high, but it was the word on the street that horrified him.

For years, there had been many philosophers [Human and Reploid alike] who debated wither or not machines with complex AI systems had Souls. Real emotions. Was each thought a compilation of code, written by others, never being something truly _original_? Or had they actually gained something Humans had sole claim to after all these years? The Guardian - Ex-Guardian - had been on neither side of this morally-charged debate, for his job was not to think of such ideas, but to ensure safety and stability in an array of expertise. However, here, at this moment, as he was taking slow steps through the throngs of quiet people and muted whispers, he was beginning to wonder if Reploids did have Souls.

And if so, if such things were real, his was heavy. Almost dead.

The scene around him only emphasized this feeling. Only weeks ago - the last time he was awake before that refinery incident - he would have had no reason to hide anything about himself while walking amongst the public of his nation. Certainly, he did not do it often, for he was busy, but he was aware that the people cared for him. The title Sage, after all, was not self-endowed. Neo Arcadians would go out of their way, saying hello or thanks, asking how his days have been, if he had been injured, commenting on how amazing he was, or just mentioning a general well-to-do message. It was the same to all of the Four Guardians; more-so to Master X himself. While being far from the picturesque images of, say, ancient Greece to a epic hero, it was... nice, knowing that his work was noticed amongst the people.

Now to say good things about him was a sign of Maverickcy. A curse to yourself and all around you. To bring upon the fist of the military. Ex-Commander of the Strong Air Battalion, the master of terra-forming for Humanity; Sage Harpuia was a traitor. No ands, ifs, or ors about it.

He _had_ thought that WOMAN was lying. That she was overdoing all of those words for the interests of the Resistance. That it was a **farce**.

In fact, when he had stormed out of that building in a small suburb of Neo Arcadia's 'Blue District', he went directly towards the center hub of the government, an eventual mistake that a real Scout would have never made. While in route, flying amongst the space-touching skyscrapers, he furiously condemned those two people - that Colbar and Rocinolle. He actually _ranted_, though no one else could hear being so high and going so fast. By the time he arrived to the crowded streets below him, he had managed to regain facial composure, but just the harshness of his landing, as well as the stern look on his face, told everyone around him that whatever was wrong with him was far from over.

It was there, in the center of Neo Arcadia - or as close as one could get without higher-up permission, where the gravity of being a scapegoat had hit him the most. Where the error of not following that _woman's_ so-called 'advice' to taint himself and join the Resistance came to collect its debt.

Yes, most stories began with the hero saving a woman; a damsel in distress. Or being the sole survivor of a small village, fighting the main villain from the get-go and escaping with no dignity, but life. Or the secret prodigal son of a long-since gone hero of ages ago, with far more potential than who came before him.

Never did they begin with damnation.

Never did they begin with hate.

Never did they begin with lies.

[x]

He had landed there on the paved network of roads, bustling with people moving out of way; his green marks on his cheeks proclaiming to everyone who he was. Harpuia had arrived to clean up everything that was surrounded around him, to PROVE that he was no Resistance! To PROVE that he was a Neo Arcadian! To PROVE he had the interests of Humanity programmed in each and every conduit!

The first pang of pain, of just how BAD things were, was nothing physical against him at all. Or even a threat. It was the screams of humans who had seen his eyes, his face, his _being_, and recognized it as Harpuia. Horrible screams of horror began to ring out in the governmental plaza, with these words lashing out: "The Traitor is here!" "Call forth the other Guardians!" "He's infiltrated Heaven Tower's Square!" They were afraid of him, RUNNING, even, and he wasn't even doing anything! Only a few moments later did the alarms begin to set off, and the mass of blue Pantheons began to crawl in.

At least they did not start shooting, but that did not stop them from aiming their weapons all at him. Needless to say that any sudden movements, wither up to fly away [which was not honorable at all] or forward to attack [which seemed, at that moment, still something he could just NOT do]. As the sun was beginning to rise over the grey steel crucifix building that was Heaven Tower, making the wall shine like diamonds, he stood awash and surrounded amongst a sea of blue.

Internally, he was cussing. This could not be happening. To him! A GUARDIAN!

"Harpuia. You are now surrounded. Any signs of resistance or movement will be considered hostile unless commanded by us." came out the synthetic voice of an AI-less computer drone.

Fefnir appeared in front of him soon afterwards, Transporting in with his own device. Fury, pity, and rage were in the eyes of the master of the land unit, and displeasure. He hefted up his two red and black guns, Sodom and Gomorrah, and aimed them at the jetpacks on the sky master's back. They would not be death shots, certainly, which meant at least...

Harpuia finally managed to speak, trying to shove all of his thoughts to the side, trying to grasp on the gravity of this situation. "What the meaning of THIS!" he eventually cried out, with his eyes flashing. The tension rose in the air like a thick waft of smoke, but unlike the remains of a fire, it did not move or dissipate as time passed. "'Traitor'!" he spat out, as if doing such action would redeem all of what had happened. "You KNOW me, Fefnir! I am not a... a _**TRAITOR**_!" That yell rang out, reaching the water that surrounded Heaven Tower itself, and if one listened carefully, into each and every room, too.

The sad thing was that, Harpuia noticed with a shock of terrible forbearance, it _did_ seem as if Fefnir knew that the label of traitor was not as true as the Neo Arcadian government had let it seemed. Perhaps that was the reason he was not dead on the spot, but in all honestly, it accounted for very little. A trauma could be seen on the red warrior's face, obviously coming from the morality issue going on within. "Ha...Harpuia... Y...You are..." And just like that, the frown claimed the face, with the exception of those eyes - pity. "You are going to be placed under arrest for the crimes committed against Neo Arcadia," the Guardian began silently, not using the loud, obnoxious voice the green eyed one was so used to. "According to Law Article 9, Sub Section 4c, you have no right for a trial or a jury, and will face... face retribution by Master X himself.

"I'm sorry. It..." Fefnir shook his head, unable to say too much as he hurried to add these words in a voice that mimicked his eyes, "-it **has** to be done this way."

Guns from the Pantheons were still aimed at his body, as was Fefnir's, except he could analyze from their movements that they were going to follow that proclamation. Knowing that he could fly, even some Ace Pantheons, with their own jet packs leaving a trail of ionized air behind the twins, floated about in the skies in an attack formation.

_"Neo Arcadia has branded you as an traitor. A Resistance supporter. Marked for Retirement with no trial. It was either that, or admit that the Resistance has gotten much stronger and organized. An actual Resistance BASE, led by the so-called maniacal, and young psychopath Dr. Ciel. Yes, the government would rather send you off than terrify the Human population with the truth..."_ Those words from that _woman_ echoed once again, just as fresh and daunting as they were when they came out of her traitorous lips.

"Neo Arcadia honestly had branded me Resistance? You think I am such, Fefnir?" he hotly added, this time moving his arm in anger. That movement, that sense of action, had made the so-far passive computing systems of the Pantheons into aggressive, and thus:

-they began to _fire_.

Harpuia just didn't expect this. Would they truly brand him as something so _vile_ for-?

An explosion! A loud noise! The enemy - No! Neo Arcadian! - forces began to blast at him, cutting into the ground where he had just been standing. The experience with his last fight resonated in his brain, and he automatically began to side-step and dodge. Once again, his fingers tried to trail towards his back, but he mentally stopped himself. How COULD he try to fight back! These were his own PEOPLE!

In most dire situations, sadly, or perhaps, fortunately, the drive to live outweighs most ideas. In perhaps another Universe, another Time, another Place, Harpuia would have come in peacefully, pushing aside that instinctual drive, for the good of Neo Arcadia. Yet, this was not one of those what-ifs. This was reality. It had a habit of shaking you and pushing you to other methods of being. The honorable Harpuia was about to have his moral wings clipped - able to grow back, one day - as his body - retrofitted years ago for war - simple, brutally, and quite naturally _reacted_.

Because his swords were missing, his fingers reached forwards towards one of the Pantheons on the ground and snatched the gun away, yanking the poor automated soldier's arm out of it ball-bearing socket. It sprayed a stream of red oil lubrication - often called 'Reploid Blood' because it was, in essence, the life-force of Reploids - into the sky, showering all the others around him. The oil dripped down the side of his cheek, oozing and sticky, as he twirled, bringing up the sights and blasting the CPUs of all trying to aim at him.

The line between a label of Guardian and a Pantheon was, in truth, a impassible crevice. Data-wise and computing-wise, one Resistance Maverick can amount for two to ten [or even _twenty_] Pantheons, mainly due to the issue that the staple blue fighters were nothing but copy and paste in real life, multiplied thousands upon thousands. However, where they lacked in pure skill, experience, and talent, they had numbers. A Guardian - or any AI'd Reploid - had to be crafted with specific needs and hour and hours of a scientist's time, but to make a Pantheon was just a push of a button.

Perhaps they did not think Harpuia was going to attack back, expecting that code of honor to stand up against the bombardment of self-preservation. Perhaps Fefnir was feeling bothership towards his fellow comrade, and did not cal forth for too many reinforcements. Perhaps there just was not enough Pantheons in the area to muster in such a short time. Whatever the case, even though, yes, the green eyed warrior was being attacked and damaged a bit, it came for naught. Pantheons were not strong enough - at least not the meager thirty-three that had surrounded him - to stand against such a tide and fury of bullets.

Fefnir himself only stood there, doing nothing except gaping in horror.

Even when Harpuia found himself aiming the gun that he had stolen right at the other's face.

Adrenaline was a strange thing. Apparently, he was programmed to experience it in full force at times like this, including the way that it swept most rational thought. Or maybe this what his deep inner self had wanted, in some sick, twisted moment of rebellion. Had he fallen? Was this A moment? Was this nothing but a CONTINUATION of the moment?

"Damn it," came the soft reply from his lips and he threw the gun away, as if it was made out of corrosive, hydrochloric acid. It skipped on the paved roads, long since empty and void of life, and splashed into the viewing pool that surrounded Heaven Tower. "Damn it!" he cried out again, staring right at the red and white Reploid. "Wha- What have I...?"

Fefnir had not placed his twin weapons down, but that look of pity came washed again on his face, as well as... care?. "I was afraid of this, you know. That you would have fought back. But I didn't want to bring more. I couldn't." Those guns, powerful, and more than capable of making the weaponless Ex-Guardian become critically injured were then promptly placed on the side holsters. Away. No longer aimed at the Traitor. "Even though we never really got along all the time, we all share genetics, right? Brothers, almost. Hell, maybe if we had been born Human we _would_ have been; **should** have been!"

Harpuia kept his stance.

The other man then shoved his hand towards the side, in a seemingly random direction. "I **can't** kill you. I brought so little for you to escape, but still keep up enough appearances that I had DONE something. Run, Harpuia, _run_. I know I will condemn myself in the future for this action, and that we will more than likely be facing opposite sides according to Neo Arcadian Law. But for now, JUST now, I can be a true brother and let you free. 'Family first', and all that shit."

He didn't know what to say. So it was the truth then; that he was to be useless to Neo Arcadia, except to be on the chopping block to hide the Resistance's strength from a blissfully unaware Humanity. That instead of complying to the rules, as what is expected, he _defied_ them, proving that he was just that. A Maverick.

A Soulless thing.

Considering that the green one was just stationary, Fefnir approached him and gave the man a hard shove, making Harpuia move his feet to not fall flat on the ground. "Get out of here! Leviathan and Phantom will not be so merciful! LEAVE!"

Leave he did, that Heaven Tower Square, with the mass of death littering the line of sight. Flying was out of the question - easy to get tracked - and he doubted he could have even undertaken that effort at his current mental state.

The last words he heard came ringing from Fefnir, but were not aimed at him.

"No, Master X! I am _**sorry**_, but my army ran ahead, those IDIOTS, and they ran off with their DAMN COMMUNICATORS OFFLINE! By the time I arrived, the bastard was gone! The Traitor has escaped!"

[x]

So, now the sun was setting, making twilight filter through the pillars of concrete that made the buildings of the Human utopia. He wandered from place to place, avoiding the military who he was so proud to be in. Was so proud.

Could he ever reclaim that back? That sense of dignity? Of _being_?

A female voice ranged out, "I knew you would wind up back here, though not as scratched up as you look now."

Saddened, almost defeated, green eyes managed to flash - if for a moment - at the couple who were standing off to the side. It seemed as if he had subconsciously walked back to where this mess had begun: the E-Crystal Refinery in the Blue District. The fading sunlight made the jagged edges fade into the sky, making it seem as if this mess of metal and pipe works was nothing more than a simple mound. Innocent, almost. The stars began to try to add to this effect by twinkling in an undeterminable pattern.

Standing next to the desecrated remains of the energy fence was Colbar, wearing the same thing he was wearing earlier that day, except with a large bag of what seem to be stuffed to the brim with physical books. _Tired looking_, came the offhand thought of his inner scout abilities, _and ready for leaving._ The only object that seemed out-of-place with that man was the attachment of a small gun - an archaic old thing, looking as it had come straight from the old Maverick Wars as some sort of heirloom - to his hip side on a large, brown belt.

Next to him was Rocinolle, the woman. Her color of white stood out in the setting sun, and the hair was in more disarray than earlier. Even her face, which was filled with some sort of pure ecstasy hours prior, was stern. A white metal box, the symbol 'E' painted plainly in red, was in her hands. Attached to her upper arm was something that could best be called a pea shooter, but it was obvious they were both getting ready to leave Neo Arcadia for good.

He looked away from them, unsure and unaware of what to do now.

"Look," Rocinelle began again, stepping forwards, lugging the medical box in front of her. "I don't know what happened earlier today with you, but it apparent it wasn't something nice or wonder-"

"Stop patronizing me!" Harpuia snarled, cutting her off.

In response, she raised her hand in a stopping position, keeping that look of all business. "The Resistance stands for ALL that is wrong with Neo Arcadia - from the inadequate rights Reploids have to the overall protection of _both_ species, including stopping mass Reploid genocide and solving the energy crisis. If you search with you heart and just _LOOK_, you will know that this city isn't perfect. That it is NO utopia. I am not asking to give up or kill Humanity. We do not DO that."

Colbar spoke up as well. "Please, Sage Harpuia. If you stay here, nothing will be changed. Would you want what happened to you happen to others?"

Memories of his fellow Guardians - Reploids that Fefnir had the audacity [or tenaciousness or right] to call _family_ - flickered by, and he wondered... If the scapegoat was them, would he have set them free?

_No_, he thought in horror. No, he would have followed the law and the code of honor, and Retired them himself.

Even if they were innocent.

Even if he _knew_ they were not involved.

The nurse seemed to notice that face, but not the thoughts that were raging war inside. "You don't HAVE to join, yet, but coming along with us would be for your own good. You will be hunted down, and for nothing."

_I would have Retired them..._

Was Neo Arcadia wrong?

Was HE wrong?

Had he always been wrong?

Could it possibly, _terribly_, be that the Resistance was right?

[x]

The escape out of Neo Arcadia was actually no escape at all. Despite being a Resistance, the nurse had mentioned that currently the base was in an abandoned warehouse of sorts on the fringes of the city borders, nearly touching the desert itself. To think they had a BASE, and that it was located within the city all this time...

Walking at night was the only way to travel, and even then it was not to the location itself. Instead, they were to take a series of Transporters in off-skew locations to ensure the security of the base. One day, it will be found, of that Harpuia had no doubts. But to be kept as hidden as you could for as long as possible made all the difference.

It made tactical sense, even if he was still unsure if this was what he should be doing. In a sorry state of irony, Neo Arcadia had made Harpuia turn into a self-fulfilled prophecy: label him a traitor and traitor he will become.

Sad.

Pathetic.

But was this the start of something else?

The scene of all those Reploid being crushed to death by spikes and all other assortments of sharp object replayed back in his head. He knew it was wrong back then, which seemed not-so-long ago. So wrong, but he went along with it, even though he had mentioned a few words to the other Guardians.

He shook his head, making sure that his helmet made no noise by hitting half-broken objects. Rocinolle was 'smart' enough to know he would have returned, and the man Maver- **Colbar** had returned the green armor that had been hidden in the closet. The shape of the 'X' was still blatant on it, but even if he had cut all ties to Neo Arcadia, that was there to remind him that he had planned to do SOMETHING. Exactly what was still a work in progress.

The trio was mostly silent, making very little small talk. It went for a rather quick trip between the numerous jumps from one station to another until they eventually reached what would seem to be Harpuia's new home for an unknown amount of time.

"Here we are," Rocinelle addressed both Colbar and Harpuia. Whereas he could only think about the rundown looking appliances and walls [on top of his numerous thoughts], the other man seemed to be pleased with himself.

There was not too much of a greeting - in fact, the nurse had mentioned to keep tension between the Base and Harpuia to a minimum, no one was to know he was going to arrive just yet.

But, there was at least TWO people who were there, standing off towards the side. One was a rather tall man, wearing what seemed to be a green uniformed robe, and a blue and white set of work-goggles. Scholarly-looking, almost, with jet black hair smoothed over. The other was...

"Dr. Ciel," he simply stated, offering neither his hand, nor venom in his voice.

"Ciel is just fine," she quickly patched in, offering her hand and giving the biggest set of compassionate eyes he had ever seen. Just them had made him wonder if even the reports of her being a psychotic - of being a mad scientist undertaking illegal experimentations - were true. Childlike innocence were in them, as well as naivety. "This is Cerveau, our scientist."

Her blonde hair bounced a bit as she turned to face all three of them. "Welcome back, Rocinelle. Our medical bay area is almost completed! Nice to meet you, Mr. Colbar. I heard great things about you." Her blue eyes gazed at Harpuia's tall figure, and she seemed almost apprehensive before continuing. "Sage Harpuia... I...

"I welcome you to the Resistance Base."

[x]

_First thing is first. Heaven Tower. Sounds kinda silly in writing, just like The Ten Shining Weapons, but it's cannon. xD! However, 'Blue District' is made up. You guys got me there. -winks- Anyways, now that Hapuia has fought for his life, confronted his fellow Guardian and 'brother', and wound himself back to Colbar and Rocinolle, the fun can... CONTINUE! -hearts-_

_Like stated earlier, since normally Harpuia would rather let himself get inadequate medical help than stay in the Resistance, he had to confront more hardships and scapegoatism here in order to get so low that he realizes 'Truth'. DRAMA LLAMA? I tried to make it as believable as possible, yet again, so if you find this good, YAY~_

_ANYWAYS! Ciel! -jumps- No Zero yet, though. -sadfaces-_

_And noooo, this is NOT CielxHarpuia! -shakes fist- Ciel just cares for everyone, and her eyes are SUPER FREAKING BLUE._


	3. Chapter 3

_A Detour in Awakening God  
By : Fehize_

[x]

To understand the scope of the Resistance Base's plight, all one really had to do was summarize their surroundings. It was something even a slight underhanded person could do while bored. Naturally, him, being of a type that was retrofitted and designed for just such actions - supervising, overseeing, and rationalizing - the over-use of this building, as well as its age, echoed in every step that he took. Placing one metal foot in front of the other, he turned his head every which way while following the four in front of him. The two main people - Dr. Ciel and Cerveau - were having a muted conversation with Rocinolle and Colbar, but seemed to be slightly hesitant on bringing him into it. No matter, he was still undergoing innermost thoughts.

The scenery seemed to echo his mode, if one could personify a building. Water dripped here and there from pipe works with obvious patches that have failed numerous times. Humans used to live here by the masses, he presumed, but now there seemed to only be one. Large cracks on the walls - the paint falling off, showing the tanned plaster base - appeared in more than one area. The ground had the feeling like as if it would forever have a fine layer of dust on it. Overall, a broken building that was not suited for an organized group of any kind.

However, at the same time, a new building would be sure to warrant more attention, thus being found faster. But he knew this building was old and shattered from age; not purposeful camouflage ideas. Still, it was placed in a worn down part of the city, where no one really suspected too much due to the fact that the entire area was labeled as dangerous and potentially hazard to Human-Health.

It seemed either Dr. Ciel ignored such warnings, or had enough insight to make a first base here.

Neither really mattered too much to him. While he was here, traveling through the dimly lit hallways of the Resistance Base, the Ex-Commander was still grappling his opinions. A sickening feeling was overwhelming him when he thought about Fefnir. Harpuia acted out of instinct, and had crossed the very threshold that he was ordered to find in others. His green eyes narrowed further down, but kept it out of the way. Honor! Honor! _HONOR!_

He had fought, lived, served, and talked using that code of ethics.

These recent events - Hell, THIS event - had added a stain on that, tarnishing the purity of that thought.

What was he to do? It was obvious that he could not just turn around and leave the Base to return to Neo Arcadia to beg for forgiveness and understanding. Not only was it not in him to kneel down and say such things to someone else, the option to do that was snatched away from him perhaps the moment that the bomb destroyed the Energy Factory. At the same time, could he honestly expect to work with, or FOR, such Mavericks before him after spending years upon years to bring them down?

Even if they were only Maverick in name?

How had Neo Arcadia become so paranoid? So eager to name others as scapegoats for the necessity of brining the Human population into a sense of 1oo percent calm and serenity? When did the Utopia become Flawed?

How did he - called Sage for wisdom, with the talent to see things around him with their true purpose - become so blind?

The sound of falling footsteps stopped for a moment as they all took a collective turn towards the right. The sections here were more close-fitting than earlier, making the green-marked Reploid wonder if this was some sort of more 'secure' area. With all these rocks and boulders and weak spots throughout the base, the best defended spot would be the one deepest into the rock, as well as with the narrowest corridors. When the woman had opened the door ahead, it confirmed his musing suspicion.

Dark grey, cement and steel walls, easily more than a foot thick, made for a spacious room, considering the Base. It was empty, but the marks and scuffs on the floor showcased that traffic came by this area often. A series of monitors and almost-archaic keyboards lined the wall - their networking cables and machinery not hidden underneath visual appealing panels. Coming from Neo Arcadia, this was almost laughable, but the look of pride in the other's faces meant it was something not to mock.

Dr. Ciel's spread her arms open wide, making an awkward gesture. "This is the nervous system of the entire Resistance Base! Our people make plans, jot down ideas, and do other such things from this location! If you ever want to help us out, you can come talk to me: I normally hang around here."

Harpuia could not keep silent. "You are showing me the most important room in the Base, knowing who I am, so SOON, without knowing that I am here to stay?" he added curtly. Clearly the Resistance could not be that stu-

"I believe in trust," added the scientist softly, making sure to put enough emphasis in that final word.

[x]

It was the first night.

He would have liked to be alone to muse amongst his self for a while, but that was not meant to be. While it was a general consensus that having the Base know of the Sage's presence was not a smart thing at the moment, he could not have a room to his own. After some comments added from Cerveau, they worked out a system that should entrust peace. Uneasy peace, but it was good enough. Colbar and the Ex-Guardian would room together [each room had bunk-beds and closet space for two] as they knew each other more than Harpuia knew, say, Cerveau.

It WAS his first night here, but Colbar was more than eager to speak his mind.

It had begun as a one-sided rant/talk/pester, explaining over his ideas, his love of books, and how he always had a fascination to lead groups of people. However, as time passed, Colbar tried to pry some information away from Harpuia. The Sage knew he was not exactly a person who was interested in these sort of talks, and thus, perhaps had an aura around him that was enough to keep the roommate from continuing...

Until around one in the morning.

"Aren't you tired?" Colbar finally asked with a half yawn, not entirely expecting an answer, but still trying to send out an olive branch.

The taller Reploid shuffled about in his sitting position on the bottom bunk, frowning a bit, but finally allowing to satisfy some of the other's curiosity. "I was not designed to feel the wide range of emotions that newer Reploid-Civilian Models have," he began. It was true. Reploids designed for war or necessary government jobs had some of the code that made Reploids mock Humans taken from them. Most of it was small amounts - feeling the need to sleep, eat, etc. - as to not interfere with battle potential.

"So... like, are your emotions taken, too?"

Harpuia arched an eye a bit, tilting his head. Despite his fowl mode, he had to smile a bit at that comment. Why did he find it funny? ... He had no clue. "No."

Colbar jumped down at that - his black hair bouncing around. "But-But! I thought War Reploids were, you know, scary fighting freaks with HUGE egos on the inside, and-and lack of emotions for MAXIMUM EFFICNECY!"

The Ex-Guardian had to blink a few times. He knew it was common - VERY common - for a pair of squad-mates to get close to one another [drinking buddies, shooting buddies, talking buddies; the list goes on] over the course of similar plight, but... Colbar was not in his situation. Yet, the younger Reploid was eager to talk; happy to bustle out. It was obvious he was looking for a new friend - fueled with happiness from the fact that he was now in the Resistance Base on top of that.

He just didn't expect it to be aimed at him. Tonight.

Ever.

At Neo Arcadia he had no one to call as a 'friend' - short of, perhaps, Aztec Falcon. Master X was Master X, a beacon of perfection [who had somehow tumbled into a being whom Harpuia had no idea what to label as over the course of the past few days] and Savior of Humanity. Leviathan was always exclaiming how bored she was, annoying him at moments when she felt so with her tantrums. Phantom sped along like a good spy, both acknowledging that their relationship was that of a common goal for Humans, nothing more. Fefnir was... now too hard to place. He had thought annoying and fight-eager, but...

Then there was all of the underlings and sub-commanders to the various armies. Yes, Sage Harpuia had no 'friends', just people he knew and worked for - all with the underlying fervor that was to protect Humans and their lives. Almost a loner.

He answered Colbar, intrigued almost, a few silent moments later. "No."

Simple. Probably enforced the other's idea that he WAS 'emotionless', but to gain friendship with Harpuia, you needed to be on your toes. Think fast. See what others did not.

And that was if the Sage even WANTED a friend to begin with. Finding such things were not on his list at this moment. More crucial things were.

[x]

He had spent almost three days in that room, being silent, mostly.

It was on the forth day when Cerveau entered - Colbar gone for some leadership training that the Resistance Base seemed to have - through the sliding doors, surprising the Ex-Guardian. His green eyes met the visor, reflecting his image. Appearance wise, there was nothing to show that he was still in mental duress. It was important to keep such stuff inside, after all. It was a key point in listening to orders one was not attuned to; something that was still in him, even if he no longer had orders to listen to.

"I couldn't help but notice you were doing nothing," the man added. Not haughty or chastising: observant.

"I have been thinking," Harpuia added. Nothing? No, definitely not nothing.

"Thinking or not, nothing has been done. You are in the same spot you were earlier when you first entered. And while Ciel may be more accepting of this-"

"Is this a-?"

The tall scientist shook his head, frowning, as if trying to bring up better words. "I meant, while Ciel may be alright with housing a Guardian inside these walls, I think you should help us out. And hear me out, please, Sage Harpuia. You were labeled as a Terrorist like all of us, but you have a more dubious background to erase from the minds of us here. I know that many would not be pleased if you came out of nowhere. Perhaps Ciel is a little naive in hoping that spreading rumors about your... 'fall from Grace' would bubble a cushion of support among you here, or maybe I am a slight cynic, but I think that you mingling with the group right now would be in your favor."

"That is a hypocritical notion: to hide from them to prevent unrest in your own faction, yet talk amongst them to prevent _future_ unrest."

Cerveau was a smart man. He sent out those kind of vibes most scientists did. They seemed to think they understood the majority of the world, as well as the people in it. In that sense, both the Resistance Base and Neo Arcadia had similarity, which was another awkward tack in his long mental list. So, as a smart man, he pointed out a thought Harpuia had a feeling he was thinking...

Only, he was hoping that it was not ever to be voice.

He assumed wrong.

"Considering the hell you have given us over the months, I know you can be quite a... spy. You can blend alright, and hide when need to."

The Ex-Guardian caught this man's drift. "You want me to play dress-up. To enter this _group_ as someone not myself."

The black hair swayed to and fro as the body of Cerveau walked towards the closet that rested in the corner. It was something he saw Colbar mess around with, when he was dressing up in Resistance Green. The scientist's white gloved hands began ruffling through the clothing, as if trying to mentally...

_He's checking to see if any of them can fit me,_ the Sage mused right before a green bundle was thrown at him, as well as the typical black under-armor.

"Now, I understand you still have a lot to think about. In this sense I agree with Ciel - you are going to have a harder time coming to terms with your label of 'Traitor' than the majority of us. However, if you could at least MINGLE with the people here, perhaps... Perhaps you can have the rest of your eyes open. We both know they are at least partly concealed, but squinting in the Light."

Harpuia hated proverbs. Phantom used them often while speaking, as if being eloquent in his speech made up for all the _deeds_ he did to ensure peace for the Humans.

Cerveau continued, nodded slightly. "It would only be temporary. Just to see if the people can get used to the idea of who here while not 'REALLY' being here. You won't have to fight! If all goes well, you won't have to hide amongst your new allies."

"The Resistance Base is not-"

Ever since the beginning of this ordeal, people had a habit of breaking into his speech. Seems like it made no difference on who was talking, either. "We **are**. Ciel believes so. I believe so. Colbar believes so. _Rocinolle_ even believes in what you'll eventually chose, and SHE'S Rocinolle!"

Harpuia's fingers gently traced the outline of the beret that seemed to be part of the standard uniform. A part of him was not comfortable at all with this set-up. It seemed that now that he was no longer Neo Arcadian, people have been trying to push him towards their own agendas. The Utopia he served now sees him as one thing, and the different people of the place he was currently taking shelter - out of necessity rather than choice, for now, he presumed - another. However, another part whispered silently that this could be a new way.

It was troubling. He had spent YEARS upon YEARS in the service of Neo Arcadia, and that whimper of a doubt was already formed. The Sage had only been gone for a few weeks!

Yet, his mind was still thinking. Still planning. He had been _wrong_. What difference did it make to his honor if he placed on a hat and paraded as a Resistance Base new member for a few days? If anything, it could give him intel that this was not the place for him either.

_Or, we could make a new honor here_, taunted the growing rebellious side of his mind.

[x]

Ex-Commander Sage Harpuia is pronounced Har-puh-ee-ah.

Harp is pronounced, well... harp.

To prevent too many lies and deceit within the Base, and to bring forth a sense of half-truth, Cerveau not-so-ceremoniously dubbed him Harp. After the instrument. A _musical_ **instrument**. Why? Because, _obviously_, it was a gutted form of his name, minus the -uia. Never mind it changes the definition of the word. Never mind that Harp sounded stupid.

"-and finally, entering with Colbar is a new recruit, Harp. He was injured in the escape from Neo Arcadia, so please, be gentle. He's a bit socially awkward and shy, so try to help him fit in!" Dr. Ciel added with a smile - a semi-manipulative smile?

Never mind that the first impression the others in the Resistance Base was a man with a weak sounding name, instead of a feared - or at least _respectable_ - one. A man who was brought in by injury meant he couldn't exactly take care of himself.

Which, unless the might of the Neo Arcadian Army was out to vanquish him, he could.

He had to give a kudos to the doctor running the entire Base, though, for pulling that comment. Those words of encouragement to spread the family aura of the Resistance to the new folks definitely sent forth a knitted community. It was almost similar to how the Neo Arcadians ran with their leaders, only... He frowned a bit as he stood there next to Colbar and a few other new members, pondering. Only in Neo Arcadia, Master X was almost God-like. Here, the Human leader had a much different air to her.

There were also less people in the group of Mavericks.

Everyone that could manage to squeeze into the main room was there to see. It seemed to be a right of passage for new members, Harpuia noticed, to be showcased in front of the already concrete members. Size them up? See if anyone was acting suspicious? That and more. Mavericks were...

_Resistance Base members_, he chastised himself.

Harpuia was still wearing green, though now it was in the tune of the normal Resistance Base outfits. He was taller and lanky than pretty much everyone else located inside, and thus, was given the tallest sized clothing. _It's temporary,_ he added with a scowl. Cerveau had added a point in his words, even if his motives were obvious.

It was still nicer motives than what Neo Arcadia had in store for the green Ex-Guardian.

The only physical difference he had to do was take off his helmet to expose the chocolate hair underneath the beret and cover the green triangle marks upon his cheekbones. Truthfully, he had no idea WHY they existed upon him - or what his creator thought while planning them - as they served nothing but a facial quirk. Still, hiding them with some weird powder Cerveau snuck to him [and Harpuia was not going to ask] seemed almost like an affront on his own idea of self.

His feet, which wore the default brown shoes of the Resistance Base, clanked on the dull grey floor as he tried to pass around to a spot to see what else the Human was going to say. It was a general meeting, and she had let it be mentioned that while she was glad Harpuia gave the Base a chance, even if small, she didn't want him undergoing anything strenuous yet. They both knew he would not do such a thing.

Honor, the old ghosts, hoped that he would never fully join the group of anti-Neo Arcadians. Would never raise his hand again to destroy the Pantheons and Guardians and other such things.

Dr. Ciel coughed to arise attention once again. "Now that everyone has been greeted, we now will discuss this month's goals." With that, a holographic screen appeared, glowing - what else - green. On it sprayed apart a fountain of information that was automatically being picked up by all the Reploids in the room, and showcased on it was a few simple points. "First up, the rumors are stated to be correct. Harpuia has been labeled a Maverick by Neo Arcadia and has disappeared. We will want to see if we can converse with him, IF we can find him. Being out there, in the wasteland deserts, being hunted by the armies that used to be his own, must be a terrible fate I wish upon no one."

Yes, the doctor was playing dirty.

"Second! We have received reports that BECAUSE of the mass trying to find the MIA Guardian, now is the time to place a strategically attack on 'Recycling' Centers! I have been planning a few ideas, as well as Colbar, who is a tactical master…"

The rest continued on that vibe, making Harpuia feel uneasy. THIS is what she planned? Certainly, possible, but if anything went wrong, there would be Hell to pay. There was no intelligence on those areas, and it was it she was oblivious that the Centers were Phantom's domain. PHANTOM'S. Giving the fact the Base members were rather loud on their ideals, they still had no where near the fighting capacity of a Guardian.

It was beyond stupid. It was borderline insanity!

"Harp!" came a cry out as Colbar ran ahead, breaking his thoughts. He was snickering - bastard - at the name, and dragged next to him was a few people he didn't know. One was a tall man with long, almost female looking, black hair with black gloves studded with white fingers. The other was a woman with bright, flaming red hair all tied up in a braid. "This," he began, all too happy that the Sage was there, "is Hirondelle! He's the Resistance's scout! And THIS is Marie. She's a foot solider with a MEAN aim!"

Colbar was trying rather hard on this whole friendship-attempt thing.

Harpuia had to at least give him points on attempting.

All three gave him a look, as if trying to get more out of his impassive face. "Don't be discouraged by his Mr. Grumpy Looks, guys! Harp talks! When he feels like it! Did you know he and I are roomies?"

Marie tilted her head a bit, and Harpuia was conscious of the white energy gun attached to her side. It was old, outdated, like everything else inside the building. Everyone inside was armed, it seemed. Outside of their friendly appearances, they were killers of numerous Pantheons. _Still, Pantheons are just programmed tools. Not one ounce of emotions to even place them in the category of Reploids._

_ Why did I just _**defend**_ them?_

"So, Doc Ciel claims you were injured, right? Don't look too hurt to me-"

"Marie, he could be hurt... On the inside," pointed out Hirondelle.

Colbar sweated a bit, butting in. "He's not a gunner or a foot solider like you, Marie. He's… ugh... he was a..."

"Civie?" frowned the red head.

Harpuia felt like he was drowning in a sea of chatter. Needless chatter. Was torture on the agenda for the Resistance Base? Of course, rationally, he knew this was not torture - nothing near it - but it was still taking him out of his comfort zone. Damn Cerveau for bringing this up, and damn himself for agreeing to go along.

His voice was silent; refined. "A seeker of Truth," was what he added, curtly.

"'Seeker of Truth'? Pfft!" screamed the woman as she laughed, raising her hands up. "How boring! A BEAU'CRAT! Colbar, how can you stand this boring stud?"

The Sage visibly frowned, but refrained to comment. The lack, though, made Colbar think that he should stand up for his... roommate. "Hey! Marie! That's no way to say hello!"

The tall scout - Harpuia made a note to keep a SPECIAL eye on this man. If this man was any good, he would be able to deduct Harpuia was no 'Harp' and solve it rather easily enough with too much lapses of information - rubbed his long hair a bit. "She's just joking. Only yesterday we had discussed that a government worker within the Resistance Base would allow us to understand more of Neo Arcadia's Red Tape as well as the policies and politics they undergo for situations that could possibly arise. I know it's my job to scout around, but some stuff is nearly impossible to find out without knowing what the background is." He offered his hand at the end of those words.

The Sage paused a few moments, before shaking the outstretched one.

Even though it was just pretend for the moment, even though it was hiding under the name of Harp under the 'guidance' of the scientists, even though this was a step further towards the level of the Resistance Mavericks/Reploids; it was somehow...

Liberating.

[x]

_Good news, everyone! I did not loose something very close and important to me! Which I much so NEARLY did this past month n a half! I won't say what it was, but it was VERY crucial to my health, life, etc etc etc. Now with that worry out of the way, this fanfiction can no longer suffer the fate of 'neglect' among other things..._

_-coughs- For this chapter, it was character development, I presume! No fighting yet! I know fighting is fun, but in all seriousness, Harpuia is not exactly going to pick up arms... yet. Why would he right now? It's pretty much forced kidnapping he's undergoing, to his opinion!_

_Anyways, Marie the red-head IS in MMZ, but no name. So I gave her SUCH an ORIGINAL one! -sarcasm- As you can tell, we have the starting of a cast, which means hopefully we can push through -spoiler spoiler- and get to Zero one day!_

_By the way, Ciel's plans. Well, the base was under her lead, and while I love Ciel, I have a feeling she was no EXPERT on leading a Resistance straight off the bat. She had to learn somehow, and considering the numbers she had to be desperate enough to get Zero from a fortified area… Yeah… Bad stuff. -folds hands-_

_I'll try to add more chapters sooner so it's not all one chapter a month average. Which is TERRIBLE._


End file.
